Month: July 2025

the imagination of perspective

the imagination of perspective

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

under the lurking moon
the cool tide shifts
for sweat hides- swiftly now
leaves tremble- and turn
squirrels bury their treasures
the mother is tucking the edges now
the silks of spiders grows vacant

things change, even in a small lifetime, I can only imagine the ripples of time over long periods, like eons, not here, in this urban town, the burbs, the typical jersey suburb, parcels of land measured out, a lawn, a driveway, the american dream, it seems, with gusto and plows, concrete and asphalt, light poles strung like christmas decorations lining the parade route of the daily back and forth, I heard this was once farmland or even a chicken coop, but that was a different lifetime, before mine, but in my short observation, I have seen a shift in some and none, most of the birds remain the same, cardinals, jays, robins and the like, the rabbits of jack in spades have been a main stay, nervous little critters, then there are those canadians who really love to stay here year round these days, you would think they might explore the further south, and move to florida in waves, but perhaps compared to nova scotia this is like miami down, maybe they were there when I was younger, but I did not much notice the curious minions of northern parkway dogs like I do now, little watch towers looking about but oddly they seem smart enough (unlike a chicken) to cross the road as I can safely say I have not seen a flattened one, and least I forget the slyest of them all, the slinky foxes that skate along the hedge rows and meander in the shadows, to think all this life swirling about in just this tamed space, all it would take is a blink, and nature would roll into place.

walking around, conversations with yourself

walking around, conversations with yourself

by David Koblentz ♥ 1 Comment

I have conversations in my head
with those who are surely dead
grands aunts uncles, father
the voices there
are they recordings
actual responses
or my mind’s creation.
I have conversations in my mind
from those with which I’ve shared this time
lovers soldiers formers
and others
in what seems like lifetimes ago
not my own, somehow,
sometimes this is just the past
replayed, the reality, as it laid
with my wisdom now
screaming at the scene
always knowing
that is the frame of that happening
that has happened
long ago or yesterday
still behind, of that today
to wrap my mind, bend time
with conversations
played, in my head.

note: on my nightly walk in the neighborhood, I felt like my mind was a pantheon of past and present, talking to those gone (from this earth) and those gone (from my life)… and others still who I see daily… it is a strange thing, and like dreams, feels just as real…

amalgamation of a childhood (a short tale of this evening)

amalgamation of a childhood (a short tale of this evening)

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I took a different route on my walking route tonight, and something unexpected happened, my hometown, Edison NJ, is (and the surrounding towns) one of the largest concentrations of Asian Indians in the country, this is not a new thing, it is something I grew up with so, it is daily life here (and yeah, I have better access to all types of fantastic Indian food than most of the country!)… anyway, the main drag here in town is almost like a Indian carnival at night, usually I just walk in my ‘hood around the blocks, tonight I ventured out onto said major drag (Oak Tree Road), something strange happened, as I walked from the depths of Livingston Acres (boy I am getting really local flavor wise here), I started walking towards what looks like an almost semi-carnival, the wind tonight was mellow, not cool, even sort of warm, but not the humid smack of the daytime so… even a hot wind was welcome, so, as I am walking toward the gaudy, almost Vegas like lights, a smell hits me like a veritable brick to the face, and that brick had a word on it… ‘deliciousness’, the waft of grilled food and exotic spices, but also the simple song of street food, the satisfying quick bite of fried anything or flame kissed meats doing the mambo with chilis, the whole spectacle of it reminded me of… the boardwalk. And when I say Boardwalk I mean one thing… Wildwood NJ. There are a lot of boardwalks in New Jersey.. but the one that is king, at least in my lifetime, is Wildwood. Atlantic City? No thanks, Seaside? Please… the memories of wandering around Moreys’ pier and the like, the really silly haunted castle, the tram car, it all came roaring back in my mind set off by almost similar circumstances, walking carefree on a summer night, the just enough breeze keep off just enough sweat to be bearable, your nose filled with a thousand delectable delights just a booth away (well, in this case store fronts), people bustling about, lots of cars whirring by, if Edison has a pulse, well, this is it, and somehow this transported me back to my times as kid, walking on the boardwalk taking it all in… how strange life is and circular – and unexpected that the human experiment comes to such common grounds.

now the question is do I want some Aloo Tikki or Funnel Cake? ?!?

gardening.

gardening.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

in the garden of my making
might I stroll
and show you the paths
the corners
the highlights
that which needs repair
with comfort-
with confidence-
shall I move, to and fro
not a care in this world
as I expose my know
for then
I will truly know you
as you, me
and then I might find the eternal spring.

la mort de la magie

la mort de la magie

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

I often wonder, with eyes wandering, up into the sky, but I must confess such dreaming or such leering occurs mainly at night, for there is something so alluring to the night sky, the endless… …ness, and the endless possibilities, the light of a thousand, no, countless stars on shores far, and that light is only what I can see with these little periscopes I was born with, might I realign with my primitive self, around a fire of my own making, watching the embers dance into rise, twist-curling into the blackness dotted with life, to disappear, as if by magic, how those times are lost, I think, or think to much, should I shoulder back more into my remembrance, or want-to-be acquaintance to my ancestral self, somewhere in that DNA, lurking, sleeping, perhaps ignored even, a being, simply gazing up at the stars in wonder, has the magic of life died with such scientific circumstance? I think not but perhaps our gaze might shift a thought, can I fathom that light has to get on a bus to get to the next stop? such mundane things, or maybe light is just another path to sight as I survey it out, as I am seeing the twilight now, “now”… I chuckle a bit to myself now, in the knowing that the very starlight I delve to delight in is older than my self, or perhaps who knows? humanity itself… I suppose there is magic in that, time travel achieved in my own time by the bent of space, an illusion made concrete stone by scientific fact, or so I am told and read and was tested hence, no reason to doubt of course the courses, but a fairy’s wand might be a better professor instead, and by all accounts how would my life be bent, differently, as it were, if the magic of all things was once more restored as it were, just staring up art the sky with no answers but what eyes can only see, what the mind can conjure and conceive, am I projecting or is the universe projecting… on me?

(a rainbow made me ponder, for truly there is still magic at play in this realm, might I gather the dust carried from all corners)

yah… that is my actual photo from my car no less… for those that know Jersey… I say what exit to you rainbow!

lost love letters…

lost love letters…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

(1)
so many years (pause)
and i still think of you
I should have been more selfish then-
realized then, not now
hindsight is a lens
a curse, a gift, fire to burn it all down to the soul
god- I miss you
nothing- since has been you
nothing- close (and I apologize to those)
so I wonder
how it has been for you
when I feel like the murderer standing over the body,
the right decision has always felt wrong
so I wonder then
what has become
our future now that is has become none;
but let you know
never a day passes
that you are not
in my thoughts, and those thoughts are love.

(2)
to you (my love):
for our paths to cross once more
once again
as meant to be
like the first go round
hopefully
beyond this world
in another
some where other
where the house we live in
is our own, no one else
no outside world to know
only each other
in each other’s arms, as one
as in those moments
we had-
that is heaven, my love
for I will wait for you there.

see, wall

see, wall

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

on the old sea wall…
standing in the light rain
bait fish shimmer the surface
gulls dive in to catch their prey
alone I witness, all this
not another, in long sights
the tell tale signs-
concrete, battered barrier wood
some lush green sea-grass revealed
from the tide out at sea from home
even with all the metal
and asphalt
miles of paven path in both directions long
I feel more surrounded
and humbled by the mother here
knowing, all this is a temporary dream
as wonderous as this may be, this rampart.

(the locale)

in my travels I endeavor to find little nooks of peace in this crazy loud mixed up wonderful world… sometimes this succeeds even beyond my expectations, a lone stretch of sea wall, not another person around, no sounds but birds and the surf, the occasional plane of course, this is New Jersey… but a light rain seems to have broken all comers but yet the sunset of light purples and pinks hints off in the distance.. yeah, I would say this was worth it. (for videos of my various excursions please check out my Youtube station, thanks for reading and spending some time here).